


captain obvious

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Fluff, M/M, Romance, drama filming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2019-01-16 11:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12342282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Miyata is not actually in love with Tamamori…yet.





	captain obvious

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for shiritori.

_Deeper than the ocean, wider than the sky_ , is all the message says, and Tamamori rolls his eyes at the obvious meaning. Everything about Miyata is obvious, Tamamori thinks. Especially the way he thinks he’s not obvious.

If Tamamori has learned anything in this industry, it’s that fanservice is exactly that— _fan_ service. As in service for the fans. Fujigaya spends _hours_ planning his interactions with Yokoo, only to have it completely ruined every time he breathes near an indifferent Kitayama. Senga and Nikaido are best friends who don’t even have to joke about dating; Tamamori actually thought they were for a while, until Senga’s recent drama popularity got him a secret girlfriend and Nikaido is their number one fan.

Tamamori and Miyata are best friends, too, but what Miyata does is not fanservice. There are no fans reading their text messages, so there’s no reason to send sappy song lyrics or wax poetic—or, in this case, quote old interviews. Tamamori doesn’t have the heart to ask him to stop, because truth be told he likes the attention. He hasn’t always looked like this, though he hasn’t quite gotten used to it, either. The kind of attention he gets now, he doesn’t want. Miyata’s attention is familiar, comforting.

“So how long have you been together?” Shida Mirai asks between mouthfuls of food—the best part about filming this drama was eating all the meals.

“Huh?” Tamamori asks, looking up from his phone. He realizes too late that he’s still making his annoyed face that comes standard with Miyata and tries to relax his features into some type of respectful look for his co-star, even if it’s their last scene.

“You and what’s-his-name.” Mirai chews. “The M.”

“We are not—” Tamamori starts, then remembers where he is and lowers his voice. “We are _not_ together like that.”

“Really?” Mirai swallows and grins up at him. “So you wanna go out then?”

Tamamori chokes on his breath. “Go out where?”

Shrugging, Mirai whips out her phone. “Anywhere.”

“Like a date?” Tamamori asks, barely whispering because somehow this conversation is more scandalous than the possibility of him and Miyata having a thing.

“Tamamori-kun,” Mirai says, blinking at him. “You like girls, right?”

“Of course I like girls,” Tamamori huffs. “I’ve had, like, a lot of them.”

Mirai nods in a way that makes it clear she thinks Tamamori’s full of shit. “You’ll know exactly what to do then. Here’s my number.”

She snatches Tamamori’s phone from him before he can exit out the message, at which she rolls her eyes, then inputs her contact information so fast that Tamamori’s surprised when she hands his phone back. “Um, thanks.”

“Send me a message so I have your number,” she says, and Tamamori rushes to follow the order. “Think of somewhere fun to take me, okay? I like fun dates.”

With that, she takes back her phone and flounces off, leaving Tamamori dazed and lost and incredibly anxious. His first instinct is to call Miyata, which is dumb because Miyata’s idea of romance comes from anime. Yokoo and Fujigaya would be unhelpful since neither one actually bother to take their girls out on proper dates, and Kitayama doesn’t take them out at all. Senga’s a good choice, since he just got a new girlfriend and all, but Tamamori doesn’t want to confide in him for some reason.

“Shida Mirai wants me to take her out,” he blabs into the phone upon hearing Miyata’s overly cheerful answer. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Take her out?” Miyata suggests.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Tamamori grumbles. “But _where_ do I take her?”

“Dinner, karaoke, the movies?” Miyata lists off. “The ferris wheel? Carnival? Aquarium?”

Tamamori wrinkles his nose. “Half of those are Busaiku challenges.”

“That’s kind of the point,” Miyata says gently. “If she likes you, it doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you’re together, right?”

“That’s…” Tamamori trails off and thinks about those words. “That actually makes sense.”

“Sometimes I know what I’m talking about,” Miyata jokes. “I can go ask my sister, if you want, but she’ll be heartbroken that it’s for you and not me.”

“Oh, about that.” Tamamori clears his throat and scratches the back of his head. “You’re not upset, are you?”

“What? Why?” Miyata genuinely sounds confused, and it makes Tamamori feel even guiltier. “I’m happy you found a girl who likes you, Tama-chan. I really hope it works out.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?” Miyata laughs. “Does she like me too or something?”

“As if,” Tamamori scoffs, and Miyata laughs harder. “I just know you, you know, have feelings for me, so…”

The laughter stops abruptly. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yes?” Now Tamamori is questioning everything he’s ever known. “You tell me like twice a day. My mother keeps asking me when we’re flying to Europe to get married, and to let her know which country so she can dress accordingly.”

“Aw, Tama-mama is cute,” Miyata says, “but I am one hundred percent not in love with you, I swear. That’s all fanservice.”

“Yeah right,” Tamamori tells him. “You don’t have to lie to me, Miyacchi. It’s okay, really.”

“I’m not lying.” Now Miyata is completely incredulous, and it’s a little disconcerting. “You really thought that this whole time?”

Tamamori swallows. “Yes.”

“I thought you knew,” Miyata says slowly. “I am so sorry. That couldn’t have been very comfortable for you.”

“I got used to it,” Tamamori replies, still kind of amazed himself. “But you do it all the time! Like ten minutes ago, who was going to see that message? Besides me?”

“I do that so you can complain about it on TV or wherever, and it’s authentic,” Miyata explains, and suddenly Tamamori feels like an idiot. “That’s our dynamic, right? I am disgustingly persistent and you keep pushing me away.” He pauses to laugh. “Honestly, if it were real I would have given up a long time ago. I’m not one for unrequited crushes.”

“I…” Tamamori thinks back over the years to all the times Miyata has draped himself over his shoulders, told him he loved him, even whined when they’d go a week without hanging out. “I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”

“So dramatic,” Miyata teases, and Tamamori narrows his eyes even though Miyata won’t see them. “Look, you have nothing to worry about now, right? Go out with Shida-chan, show her a good time, and tell me _all_ about it.”

Tamamori makes a face at the side of the train as he waits for the one he needs. “I’m not telling you anything, pervert.”

Miyata laughs and ends the call, leaving Tamamori standing in the train station feeling like the last eight years of his life was a lie. He firmly believes that nothing about Miyata’s friendship has been fake, but finding out that Miyata’s attention hadn’t been out of true love kind of feels like the earth has been pulled out from under him. All this time he thought he’d been loved, even if it wasn’t reciprocated, and he hadn’t noticed how warm that had made him feel until it was gone.

He’s not even home before he calls Mirai and asks her out properly. His grand plan is to encourage her to make the decisions by asking what she likes to do, but she doesn’t fall for it. Finally they agree to meet at a nearby park and just go from there, though Mirai makes it clear that she expects Tamamori to have some kind of itinerary in mind.

“Take her shopping,” Tamamori’s brother tells him, unsolicited. “Girls love when you buy them shit.”

Tamamori thinks about Miyata and how he’d been satisfied just sitting in Tamamori’s room watching TV. _Existing together_. The thought depresses him a little, because it wasn’t like that at all and never was, though Tamamori isn’t quite sure why it bothers him so much. He should be relieved. Part of him is upset at Miyata for leading him to believe it was true for all those years, while really he only has himself to blame. He should have known better, anyway. None of them are _actually_ like that—they just pretend they are to rile up the fangirls.

“You don’t like me, do you?” Mirai asks him point-blank twenty minutes into their date, before they’d even reached the restaurant Kitayama had recommended.

“What? Of course I…don’t know yet,” Tamamori answers, highly taken aback by the forward question, but he doesn’t want to lie to her. “I could like you. I think you’re pretty.”

Mirai smiles. “Thanks. I think you’re pretty, too.”

“That’s…” Tamamori trails off, frowning when she laughs. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“Oh, please,” Mirai says, walking sideways to nudge him with her elbow. “You hardly need me to tell you how hot you are. Nearly every female in a 100-meter radius wants to cut me right now for _talking_ to you.”

“That’s not true,” Tamamori mumbles, glancing around nervously.

Mirai doesn’t say anything, and Tamamori turns to find her looking at him contemplatively.

“What?” he barks, a little too roughly for a girl, but she just smiles at him.

“You’re cute,” she says, and it feels all wrong. “Let’s go eat, yeah?”

The food is good—he wouldn’t expect any less from Kitayama—and the conversation is decent; at least they have a mutual ground as far as acting goes, and Mirai has worked with other Johnny’s enough to have a general idea of what they do. She clearly did her homework on Tamamori, anyway, enough to think that he and Miyata were actually having a _thing_ , seriously.

After dinner, Tamamori starts to lead them to the next scene of their date (shopping), but Mirai halts him with a tug of his sleeve. “Forty-seven,” she says firmly, unprecedented like it’s supposed to mean something all on its own.

“Forty-seven?” Tamamori repeats.

“That’s how many times you said his name,” Mirai goes on. “Not counting the times you were just talking about him, saying ‘that guy’ or whatever—actual uses of his name.”

“Who?” Tamamori asks, even though he already knows. His nerves are shaking a little, though it’s not entirely from being outed.

Mirai just pats his arm. “I appreciate you taking me out, but it’s obvious you don’t want to be here with me.”

“That’s not true, I—” Tamamori grabs her wrist as she starts to walk away. “He’s just my best friend! Don’t you talk about your friends a lot? You mentioned a couple girls, what were their names again…”

“Tamamori-kun,” Mirai says gently. “The saddest part is that I don’t even think you realize how you feel.”

“How I feel,” Tamamori scoffs, abruptly letting go of her to shove his hands into his pockets. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. It’s all an act, he said so himself. Fanservice.”

Mirai steps closer and looks up into his eyes. “And this is new information?”

“Ugh, he pisses me off,” Tamamori mutters. “I just want to punch him in his nose.”

“You should go do that, then,” Mirai tells him. “Thank you for dinner, Tamamori-kun, but I think our date ends here. Your heart is somewhere else tonight.”

Tamamori doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but he’s embarrassed enough to just say good-bye and go on his way. It’s ironic how the highly-ranked cool guy with girls can’t even finish a single date with one. Though, the more he thinks about it, the more it was completely wrong from the start. It’s not just that he didn’t like Mirai like that—it’s that he’d only asked her out because he’d felt so lost and empty after Miyata had taken away that cushion of feelings that Tamamori had apparently come to rely on.

“Why don’t you love me?!” he demands the instant Miyata answers the door, not giving a single damn if any of Miyata’s family members are on the other side, though he takes pride in the way Miyata’s eyes widen animatedly.

“Tama-chan, I never said I didn’t love you,” Miyata says slowly, reaching out for Tamamori’s arm like he’s trying to keep him from jumping off the roof or something. “I said I’m not in love with you. Of course I love you, you’re my best friend. Wasn’t your date with Mirai tonight?”

“It was,” Tamamori says. “It’s over, because I said your name forty-seven times and she said something weird about my heart and it’s all your fault because you never loved me like I thought you did.”

Miyata blinks. “Please come inside. Let’s talk about this.”

It’s still cold despite being spring, which is the only reason Tamamori agrees because it feels good to yell at Miyata, even if his mother is clearly pretending not to notice them in the kitchen as they pass by. Yelling at Miyata helps restore the balance of the universe that Miyata had single-handedly knocked over. He fully intends to continue yelling at Miyata when they get into Miyata’s room, except that Miyata grabs him by both shoulders and stares hard into his eyes, instantly silencing him.

“Do you want me to love you like that?” he asks, entirely seriously.

“Yes,” Tamamori answers; it’s the only thing he’s sure of anymore. “I liked how it felt, to know you felt that way, even if it’s annoying.”

“I don’t…” Miyata pauses for a second, as if regrouping inside his head, then heaves a sharp sigh. “I can’t just do that without reciprocation, Tama. And I know you don’t love me like that, so I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here. You’re not that selfish to expect someone to love you when you won’t love them back.”

Tamamori swallows hard, lowering his eyes guiltily. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because you said you’re not in love with me. ‘One hundred percent’ if I remember correctly.”

“I said I’m not in love with you,” Miyata tells him, “not that I couldn’t fall in love with you.”

Tamamori’s eyes snap back up, his blood rushing through his veins so fast that he almost falls over, but Miyata tightens his grip on Tamamori’s shoulders. “What are you saying?”

“What are _you_ saying?” Miyata counters, his stare so strong that Tamamori feels like Miyata can see straight through his eyes into his soul. “Tell me how you feel, right now.”

“I don’t want to go out with girls,” Tamamori answers, saying the first thing that comes to his mind. “I don’t want to have you drape all over me and grin at me if it’s fake, and I don’t want to hear your words of love if they’re meaningless.”

“And you understand that in order for it to mean something, you have to feel it too,” Miyata says.

Tamamori nods, letting his hair fall into his eyes. He doesn’t know what to say, though his face is burning and his nerves are sparking and even he’s not blind enough to notice the signs of what he obviously feels for Miyata, maybe has this whole time.

“Tama-chan,” Miyata breathes, and Tamamori shivers when gentle fingers push back his hair. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? Because once we move forward, there’s no turning back.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Tamamori snaps, more than done with this entire discussion, though he doesn’t expect his back to slam against the door as Miyata heeds his words. Miyata’s hands are firm on his shoulders, but those lips are soft against his, kissing him slowly until Tamamori gets impatient and grabs Miyata’s collar, pulling him closer.

Tamamori starts to tilt his head, but Miyata leans back enough to break away, both of them panting for air despite not even kissing for that long. “It would be so easy,” Miyata says, his voice much softer and lower than before, “to just fall in love with you.”

“So do it,” Tamamori says shortly. “Fall in love with me already because I’m pretty sure I already have with you and I’m not going to do this alone, dammit.”

Miyata blinks. “Tama-chan—”

“Use my name,” Tamamori cuts him off, his fingers clutching Miyata’s shirt more tightly.

“Yuuta,” Miyata whispers, and this time Tamamori kisses him, heatedly, saying everything he can’t say out loud. Miyata gives it back just as fiercely as he gets it and Tamamori doesn’t know how long they stand there against his door, kissing and clinging to each other as Tamamori’s world gradually gets put back together.

“Tell me,” he says later, much later, when they’re even more breathless. “Tell me now how big your love for me is.”

“Deeper than the ocean, wider than the sky,” Miyata says, flashing his stupid grin that’s even brighter now, and it’s real.


End file.
